The Grieving Process
by WriterChic815
Summary: Severus Snape grieves over Lily Evans Potter. However, he never recovers.


**AN: This is my version of the different stages Snape goes through as he grieves over Lily. I know a few lines in the beginning are taken from the book, but most of it's original. I actually didn't look at the book as I wrote it. The story's coming slowly but surely. Feedback is always welcome!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP.**

--

Severus Snape felt ill. He had just heard _those_ words from Dumbledore-- those horrible words that meant his life was over. He struggled to find a chair and sit down. His mind was in a panic, searching for something in his mind, his memory, that could prove Dumbledore wrong--

"I am sorry, Severus. I can only hope--"

"I thought…you were going…to keep her…safe…." As the words slowly left his mouth, he looked up at Albus Dumbledore. The blue eyes stared back into the black, each trying to see if the other understood.

"Her boy survives," Dumbledore continued, not breaking eye contact. "He has her eyes. _Precisely_ her eyes."

Snape's own eyes grew wide. His heart had started beating uncontrollably, and he felt that panic swirling up in his stomach-- "DON'T!" The scream had erupted throughout the office, and many portraits scowled at the two below.

Dumbledore approached the grieving man. "You know what to do, Severus."

"I want to die," Severus whispered. "I deserve to die, not her!" His darkest thoughts, his most protected fears, had finally come to the surface; he alone was responsible for Lily's death. It had been so easy to blame others-- Dumbledore, Sirius, even James Potter himself. But now the guilt was taking over, and he felt trapped.

"Do not blame yourself," said Dumbledore, almost as if he had read the other man's thoughts. "Blame _only_ Voldemort."

Their eyes met again. They stayed that way for a while, looking into each other's thoughts, emotions, _souls_. It was a moment for them to realize everything that had happened, everything that they had both lost.

"What can I do?" Snape asked finally, his body feeling calm again.

"Protect Lily's son. If not for me or the boy, for her, at least."

Snape became silent for a minute. "Okay," he whispered, exasperated. "But-- never tell, Dumbledore! He is, after all, Potter's son."

It was Dumbledore's turn to be silent. "I will not reveal the best of you. If you so desire." There was a sad twinkle in his eyes as he said it.

"I-- I think I'd like to be alone for a bit. I'll be back. Eventually." Snape stood up slowly and made his way to the spiral staircase.

"As you wish, Severus. You are always welcome here." A tear slid down the old man's cheek as he watched the dark, hooded figure disappear from view.

--

The statue appeared menacing in the feeble light provided by a nearby street lamp. Snape looked at it, his jaw dropping slightly. As he approached it, he noticed the statue changing form. When he was finally right next to it, he looked up into the three faces carved there. He scanned them, looking at their marble smiles. He stopped on Lily's face.

Perhaps the magic had something to do with it, but her face appeared to be lit with joy. Her large eyes looked innocent, and Snape felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He fell to his knees, weeping. The sadness, the hurt, the anger had built up inside him. And then seeing her look so happy--

He punched the base of the memorial. The pain that shot through his arm stung, forcing him to let loose a slur of curses. The statue still stood strong, and Snape was reduced to a puddle of tears. His sobbing finally quieted, and he felt a strange emptiness inside him. He looked back up at the statue, though this time at the baby in Lily's arms. The baby had pudgy cheeks, and Snape could tell he resembled his father quite a bit. But there was something _else_….

The baby looked well-cared for. Little Harry was smiling, and Snape was sure he had the same glow about him as his mother.

After staring at the happy family for only a moment more, Snape stood up, glanced about, and Apparated.

--

Hogwarts castle was silent. Snape stood just inside the entrance and looked about the grand foyer. The ceiling was feet above him, and as he took a step forward, he heard a slight echo. He stopped and felt his mind racing.

Severus Snape was _home_. He'd never said it to Lily, to his friends, to his fellow Death Eaters….He hadn't even told Dumbledore how he felt about the place. But as he considered the fact more, he figured the old man had probably guessed the sentiment a long time ago.

He remembered the days he would walk into this place next to her. He grimaced as he thought about the way she would smile at him, a laugh always ready to burst to the surface. He would follow where she led, and found his own heart was not his anymore; it was totally and completely hers. She was his best friend, the girl he centered his life around. And she was the single source of joy in his life.

Of course, she had never known any of _that_. He had always hidden behind the "just friends" wall in fear of her reaction. He would always watch the guys she talked to, and do everything to convince her they were some of the foulest creatures on the planet. She had always agreed, but he noticed the twinkle in her eye when she actually liked a guy. That's what he always looked for when he saw her-- a sign that her feelings towards him were changing for the better-- but it never came. He saw a flicker, a small one, right before--

He gulped the regret down and realized he wasn't sure where to go. Surely he couldn't sleep in the Headmaster's office. He considered for only a second the Slytherin common room before knowing it would be too painful. After thinking about it carefully, he decided the infirmary would be a safe bet. There was a private room and bed, and Madam Pomfrey had already been told of his presence. It would be nice to get at least a few hours of rest.

He made his way up many flights of stairs before arriving. As he settled in quietly, he felt a wave of numbness wash over him. The many emotions of the night had left him empty and exhausted, and he crawled into bed, desperate for sleep.

He stared out the window, saw the stars glittering so brightly it hurt, and sighed. He rolled over to stare at the wall and drifted into a slow, painful sleep.

--

**AN: Thanks for reading!**


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